Sunstreaker's Quest for his Beloved Paint
by CNightJoy
Summary: Sideswipe decided to use Sunstreaker's paint in his latest prank. Determind to fix his perfect finish, Sunstreaker is on a quest to find some paint before he suffers public humiliation from scratches.


Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Special Thanks to Kat for all the proofreading.

A/N- I might start a trend of these Quests for different bots let me know if you like the idea.

* * *

All Sunstreaker wanted was a very long and very thorough shower. It had been raining when he had left for patrol, but it had stopped right when he had gotten to the muddiest part. Of course, he had been with Hound, who didn't mind a bit of mud and had no problem splashing his way through all (and by all, Sunstreaker meant _ALL_) the mud puddles from that point back to the Ark. Sunstreaker was not happy.

Upon returning to the Ark, Hound bounded off to give their superiors their reports. Sunstreaker could have cared less and quickly made his way to the wash-racks, giving death glares to anyone who crossed his path.

Sunstreaker turned on the warm cleaning solution and started to vigorously scrub off the mud that had managed to find its way into every (and he meant _EVERY)_ seam of his armor. As he got the first layers of mud off his gorgeous chassis- a fact he reminded his fellow Autobots any time he wanted to make an appearance- he realized that mud was not his only problem. He had scratches all over his beautiful sunray gold (he refused to refer to his paint as "sunshine") from the rocks and sticks hidden in the disgusting gunk.

"Grrr, stupid mud-ball, back water, filthy _organic_ planet!" snarled Sunstreaker as he ran a hand across one of the more noticeable scratches. "And I just painted myself this _morning!"_

Sunstreaker had just gone from surly and grouchy, to all out I'm-gonna-bash-heads in the blink of an optic. He hated having to repaint himself more than once a day. It wasted his precious paint!

As soon as he had deemed himself worthy of leaving the wash-racks, Sunstreaker dried himself off, and made his way back to the quarters he shared with his brother. This of course took about 2 hours to complete, and he had to make sure no one saw him with such unsightly scratches all over him. He entered his quarters knowing his brother was already there playing a round of video games (probably the only thing that humans were good for were creating more and more creative ways for video games to be violent).

Sideswipe looked up as his brother entered; he sensed his brother's anger and frustration through the bond they shared, but still couldn't help but tease him. "Hello, my Sunshine," Sideswipe smiled at the growing scowl on his brother's faceplates. "How was patrol?"

"I think you know frag well how my patrol went. It was raining when we left, and then stopped, and of course, Hound was my partner. Do you have any idea how much that mech likes mud?"

Sideswipe theatrically took in his brother's appearance. "I'd say about as much as you hate mud and Decepticons combined."

Sunstreaker growled at his idiot twin. He moved over to his side of the room, looking for his maintenance kit and paints. The kit he found where he had left it, safely locked in a trunk under his berth. However, the trunk the paints had been locked in was unlocked and…

"Sideswipe, where the pit are all my paints?" Sunstreaker asked as Sideswipe froze.

"Paints? What paints?"

"The paints that I keep for my finish. The paints that I had locked in my trunk this morning before starting shift. Those paints!"

Sideswipe calmly resumed playing his game. "No idea what you're talking about."

Sunstreaker walked up right behind his brother, watched him play for a few kliks before walking to the giant TV and pulling out the power cord. "Oops, my hand slipped," said Sunstreaker an evil smirk spreading his lips.

"Hey Sunny! I hadn't saved!" cried Sideswipe as the TV screen went dark.

Sunstreaker ignored the use of his hated nickname. "Oops, my bad Sides. Now where are my paints?"

Sideswipe opened his mouth to answer, when there was a knock at their quarter's door. Sunstreaker looked at his brother and then at the door. "Well, if you're not going to get it then I will," he growled.

Sideswipe tried to stop his brother, but Sunstreaker had already guessed who was on the other side of that door. He was correct in assuming that Prowl was not there for a social visit.

Prowl barely glanced at Sunstreaker, already knowing that he had been on patrol followed by a lengthy visit to the wash-racks, while the crime in question had been committed. He instead placed his full cold intensely neutral eyes on Sideswipe, who grinned at the second in command.

"He-hey Prowl. What brings you to our doorstep?" asked Sideswipe trying to push himself up.

"Oh I don't know, Sideswipe, it could be the fact that Ironhide and Ratchet are currently covered in a bright gold paint. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now, would you?" Prowl asked without the slightest change in expression.

"Of course not, why would I-"

"I might be able to help you with that, Prowl," Sunstreaker interrupted his brother before he could come up with some lame excuse. There was no way in pit he was letting Sideswipe off the hook for this one. He had stolen _his_ paint for Primus sake!

Prowl turned his gaze to Sunstreaker. If he was surprised by the usually loyal twin turning on his brother, he didn't show it. "Please explain," said Prowl calmly.

"Oh Prowl, he doesn't know anything. I mean how could he? He's been gone all day." Though the words were not quite an admission of guilt, Prowl was prepared to use them against the prankster at any given moment.

"Oh, I know that my _entire paint stash_ was broken into and is now not present," snarled Sunstreaker. If there was one thing the yellow twin couldn't stand, it was someone stealing his paint "And I know that only Sideswipe and Bluestreak know about the hiding place for my paints and Bluestreak has been on comm duty for two shifts now."

"Well Sideswipe, what do you have to say for yourself?" asked Prowl returning his gaze to the red twin, who had now backed up with his hands up as he faced down the wrath of two very dangerous mechs. One didn't outwardly show that he was threat, but Sunstreaker knew where Sideswipe slept at night.

"Ummm, you're pretty?"

Sunstreaker slapped his hand to his faceplate, of all the dumb things his idiot could think to say-

"I don't quiet see how that will help you in the long run?" said Prowl, closing in on his prey.

"Sunny, a little help would be-"

"You're on your own Sides," said Sunny turning and leaving their quarters, leaving Sideswipe to Prowl's punishment. Whatever Prowl planned for his brother, he deserved it.

Now he could go and find the right shade of his paint. He hated walking around the Ark while covered in scratches. He was supposed to radiate beauty at every given moment of his existence, and all who crossed his path were supposed to gape at his perfection! Scratches were NOT PERFECTION!

He finally decided to first check the med-bay to see if Sideswipe had left any of his beloved paint there. As he made his way there, he unfortunately couldn't help but pass many of the Ark's residents.

"Wow, Sunstreaker, what happened to you?"

"Haha, Look! Scratches on Mr. Perfect's paint!"

"Sunny, what happened? Did you lose a fight to a stick?"

"See, I am far better at maintaining my paint than you are, Sunny."

It was after that last comment from Tracks that Sunstreaker started to plot the torturous and painfully slow deaths of every other member of the Ark, with his brother at the top of his hit list. He entered the Lair of Ratchet, about to knock someone's head off without realizing where he had ended up.

"You!" snarled the angry medic, marching up to Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker had expected an angry Ratchet (he had heard Prowl say that he had been one of the victims of his twin's prank), but an angry Ratchet was still a scary Ratchet. Sunstreaker, however, was just as angry if not more so (at least in his mind) at the moment.

"Yeah, me!" snarled Sunstreaker. "I see my idiot twin did get you with my paints. My color looks horrid on you."

Ratchet's was waving his favorite wrench at the yellow front-liner as he stepped forward. "I couldn't care less how your color looks on me. The fact is, that idiot repainted me! Now you better be here because you're injured or you can just leave!"

"I may not be injured, but I do need some more of my paint. Sideswipe used all my stash on his latest prank. And I'm covered in scratches!"

Ratchet ran a critical eye over Sunstreaker. "Scratches? I don't see any scratches! Now get out of my med-bay!"

"What do you mean you can't see my SCRATCHES? ANY FOOL CAN SEE THEM!" screeched Sunstreaker.

"Well I don't give a frag about your scratches! NOW LEAVE!" growled Ratchet also raising his voice.

"NOT UNTIL-"

WHAP!

Ratchet had finally thrown his favorite wrench at Sunstreaker's helm.

"GET OUT, _NOW!"_

Sunstreaker, not wanting to ruin his paint further or bring down any more officers' wrath upon his now aching helm, scrambled out of the Lair of Ratchet. Now he was scratched _and dented!_ Great, now what was he supposed to do?

Sunstreaker wandered the halls, avoiding all the more populated areas, when he ran into Streetwise. It took Sunstreaker a few moments to come to a very important conclusion. Said conclusion was that the Protectobots might know where to find some of his paint, especially since First Aide was Ratchet's apprentice and was just on-call today.

Sunstreaker could have leapt for joy, except that it was a very unmechly thing to do, and he had a reputation to maintain. Instead, he quickly turned around and followed Streetwise back to his quarters. As soon as he got there, he banged on the door.

It was opened by his least favorite Protectobot, Blades. Great, now he got to see Sunstreaker's grotesque scratches as well.

"What do you want?" asked Blades crossing his arms and taking a semi-defensive pose.

"Is First Aide here?" asked Sunstreaker, choosing to ignore Blades' less than welcome greeting.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I need his help."

"Why?"

Sunstreaker was losing what little patience he was sparked with. "Is First Aide here or isn't he?" growled Sunstreaker.

"Blades, who's at the door?" came the quiet voice of First Aide.

"No one, Aide-" Blades was cut off as Sunstreaker pushed him to the side.

"First Aide I need your help," said Sunstreaker as he elbowed his way past a struggling Blades.

First Aide was mildly surprised (on the outside at least, on the inside all he wanted to do was run back into his room and lock the door) to see the scarier of the twins pushing his way into his quarters. "What can I help you with, Sunstreaker?" he asked without a waver in his voice.

"Well, first I have this dent in my helm that Ratchet gave me. Second, my idiot twin stole all my paint for a prank on Ratchet and Ironhide and I need some more to fix up my finish," Sunstreaker strolled right up to First Aide and towered over the smaller bot.

"Hey, I didn't say you could come in!" snarled Blades. Sunstreaker sent him another glare over his shoulder.

"It's alright Blades," said First Aide motioning for Sunstreaker to sit on one of the many chairs in the Protectobot common room. "The dent I can help you with, Sunstreaker, but I'm afraid that we ran out of your paint a few days ago. Don't you remember when you ran into med-bay complaining about a scratch on your arm and then repainted yourself? We've only just ordered some more. I think the shipment comes in tomorrow."

"What? Tomorrow? I won't have any paint until tomorrow?" exclaimed Sunstreaker, startling First Aide.

"If he said tomorrow, then he meant tomorrow," said Blades, standing just close enough in case he had to protect First Aide for any reason.

"What am I supposed to do about all the horrendous scratches all over me before tomorrow?" demanded Sunstreaker.

"Hide out in your room?" suggested Blades only half sarcastically. If Sunstreaker hadn't been receiving help from his brother, he would have pounded the mouthy little helicopter. Instead, he just growled.

"Why don't you borrow some of Bumblebee's paint? Isn't his the same color?" suggested First Aide.

Sunstreaker scoffed. "As if- His paint is just a plain old yellow; my paint is _Sunray Yellow_."

Blades made a motion like rolling his optics "They look the same to me."

"They are _not_ the same," Sunstreaker gave a low deadly growl; luckily, First Aide had finished with the dent on Sunstreaker's helm. He grunted a "thanks" at First Aide, sent Blades another death glare, and left the Protectobot's quarters.

Perhaps Wheeljack or Hoist would know if there was still, even just one, can of his paint left. Before he entered the explosive happy inventor's detonation zone, Sunstreaker commed Wheeljack, letting him know that he was coming.

As he entered the lab, Wheeljack said, without turning around, "Sorry Sunstreaker, but I don't have time to improve you or your brother's weapons, and you can forget about any material for prank ideas; I'm still in trouble for forgetting to lock my lab last week."

"I'm not here for weapons upgrades, and my brother is currently at the mercy of our logical SIC," grumbled Sunstreaker.

"Oh," said Wheeljack, as he turned around, the lights on the sides of his head flashing embarrassed "Then, why are you here?"

"I was wonder-"

"Hiya Sunny!" exclaimed the cheerful voice of Bluestreak. "What are you doing here? How did you get all those scratches on your paint? Was it from patrol? Oh, did you hear what Sideswipe did? Did he use up all your paint? I remember him asking Ratchet about borrowing some, but I guess he said no. Maybe that's why he got him. Have you seen Ironhide yet? He looks-"

"Bluestreak," said Wheeljack "I think he knows about the prank." Throughout Bluestreak's tirade, Sunstreaker's faceplates had changed from annoyed, to frustrated, and then to a disturbingly murderous expression.

"Oh, sorry Sunny. I didn't know that he used your paint for the prank. I guess you've been trying to find some more to fix your scratches huh? Have you asked-"

"Blue, I have been running around the Ark all evening trying to find MY PAINT," growled Sunstreaker "That's why I came by; Wheeljack, I was wondering if you had any so I don't have to look horrendous until tomorrow."

"Sorry Sunny, but I don't have any of your paint," said Wheeljack with a half shrug.

"That's just great!" Sunstreaker was beyond frustrated now. "Would you happen to know if Hoist has any?"

"No, I think they just ordered some more though."

"Um, Sunny?"

"What Bluestreak?" Snapped Sunstreaker.

"I might have some left over from when Sideswipe-"

Sunstreaker didn't let Bluestreak finish his sentence; he grabbed the talkative bot and held him at shoulder length. "You think Blue?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. It's from when Sideswipe hid all your paints around the Ark, and you lost it, and I don't think he remembered that he left some in my quarters because he did, and it should still be there and all."

Sunstreaker let go of the walking run-on sentence and raced out of the blast zone. "What are you waiting for, Bluestreak? I have to fix my paint TONIGHT!"

"Bluestreak, do you really have some of Sunstreaker's paint in your quarters?" asked Wheeljack.

"Well, just one can, the rest is Bumblebee's," said Bluestreak with a shrug "But Sunstreaker has never noticed the difference before when Sideswipe and I mix the paints."

Bluestreak slowly followed Sunstreaker out of Wheeljack's lab after saying a quick good-bye to the inventor. Wheeljack shook his head and made a mental note to stock extras of Sunstreaker's paint in case Sideswipe ever wanted to be artistic again. He pulled out the order form Ratchet and Hoist had left in his lab and added 10 orders of "Sunshine Yellow Paint."

* * *

Constructive Critisism please.


End file.
